“That one can convince one’s opponents with printed reasons, I have not believed since the year 1764. It is not for that purpose that I have taken up my pen, but rather merely to annoy them, and to give strength and courage to those on our side, and to make it known to the others that they have not convinced us.”
G.C. Lichtenberg (1742 – 1799), courtesy of 'Deogolwulf'

Thursday, 01 February 2018

I just can't choose!

I'm a bit like a starving man caught between a steak to his left and a rib-roast to his right and, struck immobile by being utterly unable to choose, he drops dead with hunger! Er, not that I'm about to drop dead (he added quickly whilst glancing round nervously) but I am faced with a damned tricky decision. I have just finished Robin Neillands' superb - and I do mean superb book on the Normandy Campaign in 1944. I mentioned it in an earlier post and having slogged across Normandy through (metaphorical) shot and shell, most of which emanated from sundry Generals with too much ego and too little brains, I now have to choose between two books.

Comments

I would go for Charles I, there's a bit of a surfeit of Churchill at the moment and it might confuse your memories of the Normandy Campaign (not that you're easily confused of course, I shouldn't project my problems). (I assume you've read Veronica Wedgwood's books?)

Alas and alack, Mike, no, I have never read any of the lady's books although they have a great reputation.

Now look here, Timbo, I gain the distinct impression that you are not taking my problem seriously! You have no idea of the deeply troubling angst I suffer as I tremble over the choice of which book to read next. Actually, the problem was solved during the night when, unable to sleep, I went downstairs to my armchair next to which a pile of 'waiting to be read' books were situated. There I came across a 'Yerdy-Derble' Scandie murder mystery which, of course, I started to read. And yes, you're right, my brow is somewhat lower than my big toe!

No, no, Whiters, 'twill be next on my list, I promise, but these bloody Scandie thrillers always tempt me, er, that's their books, you understand, not their ladies! I have already primed and loaded it in my Kindle and I am learning the words of the old song, which originally referred to Anne Bolyn: